


I Found You

by TheMightyZan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Action, Angst, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyZan/pseuds/TheMightyZan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyna Mahariel gets sucked into Marian Hawke's life, and the events of act 3, when she reunites with Zevran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hawke watched the blonde elf toss a goodbye over his shoulder as he started to walk away before turning to see Isabela, Merrill, and Anders all scowling at her.  Frowning at the expressions, because she knew exactly what they meant, she let out a sigh and turned back to look at retreating elf.

“Zevran!  Wait!”

He paused, sending her a tilted smile that stated he knew exactly what was about to come. “Yes, Champion?”

“Why not stay the night in Kirkwall and head out in the morning?  I know Isabela would like to catch up with you, in a completely platonic kind of way,” she stated, sending a pointed glance to the pirate, “and from the bouncing that Merrill is doing I’d say she has a few questions for you as well about the Warden.”

Zevran studied them all a moment, his smile widening as he turned his gaze to Anders.  “And do you have questions as well?”

Somehow Anders managed to look smug and completely embarrassed at the same time, which was rather impressive when she thought about it, and gave a small shrug.  “I saw the Commander not too long ago, but I am always interested in learning how she is doing.”

Zevran laughed, a rich sound that made Hawke want to smile with him.  “Oh, I am sure you are, _guapo_.”

She wanted to ask what they were talking about, and when exactly Anders had seen the Warden since she had heard nothing about it, but those questions were sidetracked by Zevran looking off towards the setting sun, and then moving back to join their group.  “I would never turn down the request of a beautiful and strong woman who allowed me my freedom only an hour ago.  I am in your debt, yes?”

He laughed again when she raised a brow.  “At least allow me the pleasure of buying you a drink, it is the least I can do.”

He fell into step beside Anders as they made their way towards the city in the distance, and Hawke listened with half an ear as Merrill stumbled over herself to ask how her former clan member was doing, and Zevran did his best to give evasive answers that only filled the elven mage with more questions.

It was funny to think that when she got the request to hunt down an Antivan assassin that morning she had thought that it would be a straight forward search and return.  She should have known better, nothing in this city was ever straight forward or easy.

So here she was, nearly twelve hours later, and the group that had originally sought her help was dead, and her target was walking with her group back to the city in order to get a drink and pacify her friends’ curiosity.

She really needed to reevaluate her life.

She crossed a small, dilapidated, foot bridge and then stood to the side so the others could follow; taking the time it gave her to study their new addition.  She would readily admit he was handsome, though her thinking so wasn’t saying much since she had a known soft spot for elves, and she could see why Isabela would want to sleep with him.  Not that it wasn’t glaringly obvious that they had spent a fair amount of time doing… recreational…activities together already.

As he crossed the bridge the setting sun caught his blonde hair at just the right angle to turn it a burnished gold that contrasted nicely with his dark skin.  When he reached her he offered a wink with a brandy colored eye that was framed by a black tattoo, and smiled in a way that said he knew exactly what she had been thinking even though there was no way he could.

She wondered if he had practiced that look in a mirror, working to get the tilt of his head and lips just right.

She also wondered if he used that look on the Hero of Fereldan.

She wouldn’t have believed that he actually knew her if it hadn’t been from Isabela and Anders stating that it was true, and she especially wouldn’t have believed them to be a couple if not for the fact the he turned Isabela down when she, rather blatantly, asked him why they couldn’t have sex.

A strangled noise behind her drew her from her thoughts, and she looked back to see a choked look on Merrill’s face and Zevrin laughing loudly.  Hawke slowed to a stop as Merrill struggled to form words.  “Lyna Mahariel was a noble member of our clan!  She would not… would NOT help to run…” she trailed off and waved her hands a moment.  “an… an assassin’s guild.”  Her voice had been a strained rush and her eyes flashed, daring the still laughing man to disagree with her.

“Ah,” he sucked in a breath and patted her shoulder in a friendly gesture that he quickly stopped when her face darkened.  “If it helps, they were not really a guild of assassins.  They were a group of ex assassins who used to be part of a guild and who she only lead for a little while.”

When Merrill’s face only darkened more, he reached out and patted her shoulder again.  “I am afraid your clan member has done many things in the time since she left you all that you and your clan would not approve of.  A Grey Warden’s life is filled with hard decisions.”

“I didn’t realize leading a group of ex assassins was Warden business,” Hawke interjected then turned to Anders.  “You really should have told me that.  Assassins would have been very helpful over the years.”

The mage sent her a shrug, and blandly stated,“It never came up.”

When she smiled, Merrill fell into an annoyed silence and Isabela laughed.  “I am not surprised you talked her into it, Zev.  You’ve always been good at charming people.”

“No charm needed.  My dear Warden is nothing if not helpful.  She offered.”

“And probably giggled with every Crow she killed,” added Anders.

There was a sound of agreement from Zevran before they all started walking again.  The rest of the trip was made in relative quiet since they were drawing closer to the city, and the sun was now low enough to cast most of the walkways into shadowy darkness.  It didn’t take long, once they were in the city proper, to reach the hanged man, and Hawke rolled her eyes as Zevran made a joke about liking to be hung himself then gave her an exaggerated bow before pulling open the door for everyone.

They stepped into silence.

It threw her off immediately since she couldn’t remember a single time in all the years she had lived here that the bar had ever even been a little less loud.  She reached for her sword out of habit even as she scanned the standing crowd.  Everyone in the main room seemed to be focused on the bar, even Varric and Fenris who she saw standing at the top of the stairs with curious expressions on their faces.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly, could you say that again.”

The statement, low and steely, brought her focus to what everyone else seemed to be staring at.  Near the bar there was a man and woman facing each other, and while she could only see the back of the woman’s golden brown hair, she could easily make out the sneer on the man’s face.  She also noted that there was a man at their feet who was groaning and clutching his stomach, but no one seemed particularly interested in helping him.

The man seemed to be a member of one of the endless Lowtown gangs that were constantly trying to take over, and the woman was in fact a, very small, elf.  She just barely reached the man’s broad chest in height, and she had the willowy build that most elves were graced with, but she was wearing dark brown, leather armor and had a set of daggers and a bow and quiver strapped to her.

“I said, bitch, that I won’t be taken off guard as easily as my friend.  You best apologize to my man, and find a way to repay us or I’ll be forced to do something about it, you knife-eared whore.”  The last word was said on a hiss, adding extra insult to what was already a tense situation.  The elf’s shoulders tensed, and her voice remained low, but Hawke was surprised by the reasoning in it when she spoke again.  “He tried to shove his tongue down my throat.  I would say I was the one who needed an apology.  I’m willing to let you both walk away, after said apology of course.”

“Is she insane?  She’s going to start a brawl.” Hawke stated under her voice, and was surprised by an answering chuckle from Zevran.  “Oh, I’m sure she’s hoping for it.”  She glanced over to him and noted that his eyes had not strayed from the small woman, a smile stretching widely on his face.

The man had turned a dark red, and his hand lifted as if he was planning on striking the elf, but she held her hands up before he could follow through with the movement.  Hawke could almost hear the smile on the elf’s face when she spoke again.  “Now now, ser.  No need for that.”

There was a beat where the man started to relax before Hawke saw the elf’s hand bunch into a fist and slam directly into the man’s face.  He grabbed at the inevitable spout of blood, and the world seemed to explode.

Noise seemed to flood back into the room in a rush as people picked sides in the ensuing fight.  Hawke had just decided to side with the woman when Zevran and her other companions shoved past her and into the tumble of bodies.

Hawke managed to shoulder and fight her way to the center of the fray where her group had dashed off to, and noticed Varric and Fenris on the other side of the room doing the same. She smashed two heads together as she stumbled up to Anders, who was gritting his teeth and shooting ice at the fighters around them.

It was over quickly, most everyone losing their drive once the elf woman toppled the man, her small form sitting on his as she pulled one of her daggers out of its sheath.  Hawke sent a warning glance at the few stragglers and waited until they melted away before focusing on the people on the floor.

The elf straddled the man’s chest, and leaned a forearm almost casually against his neck.  She pressed the tip of her dagger against the underside of his jaw and tilted her face over his, her short hair falling forward just enough to cover her features.

“Apologize.”  The words were casual, but her position remained firm as she waited for a reply.

Being stupid, because Hawke had to assume he was, the man sneered up at her through the blood smeared on his face.  He started to say something, but the woman lifted her arm from his neck long enough to grip his hair and smack his head against the floor before he could get it out.

“Apologize.”

This time, he complied.

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?”  She leaned back and practically beamed at him before standing and helping him up.  She watched him walk to the door a moment before stating, “Well now that that is taken care of.”

She turned and surveyed Hawke and the others behind her, opening her mouth to say something before her gaze locked on Zevran and she let out a triumphant “I found you!”  Quick as a blink she had dropped her weapon and launched herself at him with a wordless sound of pleasure.

Zevran’s arms locked around her waist, and he spun her in a laughing circle before crushing his mouth over hers.

Hawke stood with her companions in a sort of shielding half circle around the pair, and she angled her gaze to Isabela, who was watching them with a tired smile.  “I’m taking it that is the Hero of Fereldan.”

Isabela laughed and slung an arm over Hawke’s shoulder.  “Indeed.  Introductions will need to be made before Anders and Merrill take over any time that Zevran might allow us with her.”  Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she continued.  “The two of you meeting?  This should be interesting.”

Hawke turned her attention back to the embracing couple, and gave a shake of her head before letting out her own laugh.  “You know.  I think you might be right.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hawke watched as the small elf pushed and dodged at Zevran, who was doing his rank best to haul her back to him and silence her laughing protests by taking her face between his hands and pulling her into a rather thorough kiss.  Across from them Hawke could see a blush working its way across Merrill’s cheeks even as she let out a muffled, “Oh my,” from behind her hands.

The words had the Warden shoving at Zevran again and placing a hand over his mouth when he tried to recapture her own.  “I know that voice,” she stated breathlessly, and after a quick scan was shoving Zevran more resolutely before laughing and tripping her way over to Merrill and drawing her into a tight hug.

“Lethallan!”  She very nearly shouted the word, and then she was off and babbling, voicing some complaint about Merrill not being there the times she went to see the clan and stating how glad she was to see her now.  Merrill was only able to give a short, stuttered reply before she was hauled into another hug.

The process was repeated with Anders, though a smacking kiss replaced the first hug, and Hawke wondered, briefly, if anyone ever got a word in edgewise with the woman.

She gave a kiss to Isabela as well before turning to introduce herself to the others.  Hawke finally got a chance to get a good look as they shook hands.  She was surprisingly unimpressive, and Hawke wondered if some sort of joke was being played on her because she had a hard time believing that this small, bubbling, slip of an elf was a legendary hero.

She was a few inches shorter than Merrill, putting her at just under chin height to Hawke herself, but was not as soft around the edges because of her work with daggers and her bow, and she moved with a relaxed grace that her clan mate could never match.  Her skin was sun darkened and ruddy compared to Zevran’s more golden coloring, and her shoulder length hair was a blondish brown in the firelight.  She had dark blue eyes and a wealth of black tattoos that covered her face.  They curled across her forehead, and down under one eye, and out from her mouth, and a flame danced on the skin between her eyes.  Despite the marks, or because of them, she was pretty.  Hawke would hesitate to say beautiful, but pretty… yes… in an elven sense she was, which also meant that her eyes were a bit too big and her features a bit too sharp.  She was also young.  Hawke wouldn’t have guessed her to be over 25, if not even younger, which meant she hadn’t even been out of her teens when she had battled the Blight.

Amazed at the thought, Hawke took the outstretched hand and shook it, returning the smile that she was offered, before saying the first thing that came to her mind.  “You stopped a Blight?”

Lyna blinked at the question then let out a short laugh before dropping Hawke’s hand.  “Well, not alone or anything.  I had a lot of help.  And what about you, Champion?  I heard you killed the Arishok.  I’ve known a few Qunari, they are not easy to beat in a fight.”

Hawke shrugged at the question.  “But easier to kill than an archdemon.”

“I don’t know if that’s true actually, at least not one on one.”  She smiled with the statement and turned to meet Varric.

While Lyna laughed at something Varric said Hawke watched her closely, still trying to wrap her mind around the woman in front of her. She did not seem old enough, strong enough, really anything enough to stand up to all the stories she had heard. This elf was supposed to be legendary. Amazing. Twenty feet tall, and able to cower even the most fearsome of enemies. Instead she was a small, young, cheerful woman who kept a hand wrapped around one of the belts of the assassin behind her as if she was afraid he would disappear.

It didn’t seem real that the savior of a nation, of the whole world, would be the type to be awedat the site of a crossbow, gushing about how beautiful it looked until its owner was glowing with pride, but what did she know, she was supposed to be a champion and she had been ogling Bianca for years.

Hawke’s thoughts had drifted, but they were drawn back when Lyna stepped away from Zevran and into Fenris’ giant bubble of personal space.  He hadn’t even gotten out his name before both her hands came up to his neck, fingers tapping at the lines there.  She practically had her nose against his flesh before he stuttered and stepped away with a growling slap at her hands.

Lyna blinked and then took a moment to look only slightly apologetic before curiosity won over.  “Lyrium?”

“And if it is?”  The question was guarded, and he seemed surprised enough that she could guess he didn’t even try to step away again when she stepped towards him and ghosted her fingers over the lines for a second time.  “That must have hurt terribly.  I’m so sorry.”  She whispered it with a sympathetic bluntness that had Fenris’ scowl deepening even while his cheeks turned red.  Taking in his expression, Lyna dropped her hands and took a deliberate step back.

“That was rude of me.  I apologize.  You said your name was Fenris?”

He didn’t respond to her, instead he seemed to content himself with simply looking her over as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her, or if he should dislike her.  When he finally spoke it had nothing to do with introductions and appeared to be said only reluctantly.

“How do you know it’s lyrium?”

“She rolled a shrug and folded her hands behind her back as if that was the best way to keep from touching him again.  “I’ve spent more time in the Fade and Deep roads than I ever wanted, and I have fought demons, and darkspawn, and mages, and paragons.  I can’t do all that and not become far too intimate with lyrium.  It has a…”  She trailed off, a hand reappearing to wave vaguely.  “A smell.”

She turned with her words, her attention moving back to Zevran and causing the almost unreadable look at that Fenris sent her.  “I have… a smell?”

The words had her widening her eyes even as she turned back to him, a bright smile plastering itself over her face.  “It’s not anything horrible, it’s actually kind of nice on you.”  She patted his arm with her words, while he continued to simply stare at her, before being tugged back and away by Zevran, who was already asking Nora about a free room and wishing everyone a good night.

Lyna laughed as she was dragged up the stairs, a goodbye faint on her on lips as they disappeared around the corner.

Hawke stared at the empty space where they had been a moment before turning her attention to where Fenris stood with a hand rubbing idly over the arm that had just been patted.  “Apparently she likes touching.”

“Apparently,” he agreed, voice distant before he dropped his arm with a scowl.  He muttered something that only vaguely resembled words to the group at large before starting up the stairs to Varric’s private room.

The others followed him, leaving Hawke to stare at where the Warden’s forgotten daggers still lay on the floor.  Holding back a laugh, she bent to retrieve them.  After all, it never hurt to help out a hero, even a very small one.


End file.
